


Glow

by Arithanas



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Outercourse, Post-Seine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:26:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8189924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: Javert missed the stars for more than one reason. Valjean proved that there was nothing to miss under the radiance of the stars.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_End_of_the_Chase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_End_of_the_Chase/gifts).



Both men walked slowly over the solid rocks of _Pont Neuf_. Their step is encompassed, slow and methodical, but what that gait lacked in spontaneity gained in charm.

Any careful observer could notice ―by the chaffing of those coats at shoulder height― that those men were used to walk in the same manner and that such promenades were a recurrent event. They ambled close enough to tilt their heads and share a clever remark, but at the same time far enough to pretend their companion was not there.

One of the men has long hair, silver streaks pours from his temples and glimmering in that black mane like stars on the dead of the night.  A slipping crimson bow kept those luxurious tresses together, under the perpetual menace of escape at the slightest chance. The other one, towering over his companion with his head full of silver resembled a gilded cloud go across the sky in fleeting manner.

They passed over the equestrian statue and their eyes glanced over it under the light of the moon. The man with the crimson ribbon open his mouth like he was about to speak but he closed it and his face showed a rueful expression.

“What is it, Javert?” His companion asked in a polite whisper.

“Valjean, let me be.”

The reply was doleful, but brisk. The one named Valjean smiled and nod. They both resumed their stroll; Javert cast his eyes above to the starry sky and one must have eagle eyes to notice the hopeful, almost pleading look of those eyes as the fist surrounding the can curled. That look spoke of a soul drowning in regret. Valjean’s eyes were down, minding the uneven pavement and using his hip to force his companion to avoid a raised stone.

“Stars are beautiful tonight…”

“Perfection is beautiful every time.”

The statement would sound non consequential for any other person but Valjean reacted with a start and his hand clutched his companion’s free hand who turned around with startled expression.

“Beauty doesn’t need perfection.”

Javert scowled so deeply that his hat tilted dangerously over his nose.

“Refrain from trying to convince me otherwise.”

“Look up, to the stars…”

“I already have seen them.”

“But you have not looked at them.”

The fist around the cane uncurled and a visible tremor ran from Javert’s heels to his head as his neck straightened, his forehead relaxed and his eyes fixed on the stars above his head. The splash of light on the dark sky gave bright to those eyes filled with unspent tears.

“I lost them when I tried…”

“You haven’t,” Valjean touched the long hair with shaky fingers. “They and all that they meant are still here.”

The shy kiss on Javert’s temple might shock an unprepared bystander, but the bridge was deserted and they could abandon themselves to the caress.

Valjean pulled his companion to one of the bastions and signaled the churning waters that crashed incessantly against the abutment.

“Look down, Javert.”

A caged animal wouldn’t display its horror more openly than Javert. The iron fastening of that cane, the way in which the back formed an angle to the feet and the unconcealed way his eyes shifted at both sides. The silent horror addressed toward the roiling river stirred something dark and unspoken inside the very core of that accosted man.

Valjean smiled and pulled a bit more, forcing Javert to take a step closer to the ledge. Without force but lacking the will to let the issue unaddressed, Valjean slipped his hand inside Javert’s dark coat and Javert allowed himself to rest his weight on the threadbare vest of his companion. And holding each other, the two men glanced at Seine River.

Beyond the bridge, as the waters approached to the abutment, the water, dark and undisturbed, mirrored the celestial light above. The swelling surface made the light dance a constant ribbon of stars.

“You are no less perfect by the fact you remained here,” Valjean said, his voice was almost a faint whisper. “But I must concede that this way your splendor is less serene.”

Javert locked his gaze in Valjean. They both draw a deep breath and a step was taken. Legs came together in the perfect dovetail of a well-crafted ensemble. The kiss that locked their lips was long and hungry.

Valjean’s fingers undid the crimson ribbon and Javert’s hair bounced on his shaky back. The cane bounced on the paved bridge as Javert snuck his now free hand inside Valjean’s coat to apply steady pressure on Valjean’s backside.

Valjean used his hand to stay them on the edge of the bastion. His fingers rang through the length of Javert’s hair, spreading them and making the moon’s glow dance on its strands. His hips grinding against Javert’s crotch in the same lurching fashion the river smash into the bridge.

A small moan escaped Javert’s lips and he buried his face on Valjean’s neck as his calf hooked and hugged Valjean’s powerful leg to better trap their cocks together. The fabric was so flimsy Javert could feel each throb against his roused flesh.

“Should I…?”

Javert shook his head, he was so close to Valjean’s body and that was all he needed at the moment to feel alive and thriving.

Valjean’s hand cupped Javert’s backside and delivered a long deep thrust with all the power of his back. The movement extracted a long groan from Javert and his head darted up, his eyes lost on the radiance of the stars in the sky.

The movement of Valjean’s hip started to ebb away as Javert shook against his body. His lips took good care to revive the flesh that was taken over so remarkably. His hands were ready to return the cane to its owner’s when the light and the spirit returned to those eyes.

Before they were ready to return to their walk, Javert raised his head one more time and he allowed his lips to touch, softly, gingerly, Valjean’s lips.

They continued on their way, at even slower pace. Valjean's head was resting on the hair-covered shoulder of Javert, like the silver moon rested on the dark sky.

The crimson ribbon fluttered over the edge of the bastion as the sound of those men's steps got lost in the pavement of the bridge.

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive any spelling mistakes. I woke up this morning with this idea and rushed to have it ready.


End file.
